


Ticker Tape

by Paralyticdreamz



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: ? - Freeform, AU, Amnesia, Angst, Based off a song, Gen, Horror, I swear this relates back to gorillaz just give it a couple chapters, Implied Relationship, OC Protagonist, Post-Apocalyptic, im so bad at tagging please crucify me., in a way? maybe not?, major characters play a minor role
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 12:07:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13589727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paralyticdreamz/pseuds/Paralyticdreamz
Summary: Booming music. Screaming. Light.A man wakes up in the stairwell of an apartment in a city of corpses. He recollects nothing, not even his own name or how he got where he is. He appears to be the sole suvivor of some sort of hell-on-earth, and he's left with a morbid curiousity to figure out more about what happened.even if it breaks him.





	Ticker Tape

The booming bass of something indiscernible mingles with screams.  
A bright flash pierces through the dim lighting. his legs ache, they give out. The ground is gaining fast 

And then he wakes up. grey and dull, the noise of the quiet and mundane chirping of birds echo in the tall walls of the stairwell. The irritating smell of cement dust hits his nose as quickly as the dull light filtering through the cracked walls had hit his eyes.

Everything ached, likely from his presumably long rest on hard concrete, but he forced himself into an uncomfortable sitting position anyways, attempting to ignore the bile rising in his throat.  
It was easy enough for the man to identify that he was in a damaged stairwell, but harder to bring back a recollection of how he'd gotten here. 

It was hard to bring back a recollection of... anything before that booming and screaming. In fact, completely impossible. His mind was like a blank slate. completely and utterly useless. he didn't even know his own name. The sudden panic and frantic thought soon brought up the bile in my throat quite easily and he keeled over, grabbing at his empty stomach.

To save the gruesome details, once he had recovered the first step was to rise to his shaky legs, sweaty hands slipping on the railing and waiving their unreliability over his head. He took a deep breath out, where it echoed and faded into nothing. He steadied himself, keeping his eyes trained on his feet until he had gotten them into a reliable position. He allowed his gaze to travel up.

To greet him was the mangled body of a woman in what looked like very formal attire, unmoving. empty and glazed eyes staring straight to the ceiling. His face went cold, my limbs seemed to lock into place. He wanted to call out and hope there was a chance they were still alive, but he had been intelligent, he still knew better. It still made his empty stomach churn all over again.  
He looked like he would have succumb to it if the noise of rumbling and then the crash of concrete against concrete didn't suddenly fill the stagnant air. 

Adrenaline fired through his system. Fight or flight took over control of his rational thought and derailed it. Flight. now. The man's sweaty palms released the railing, his eyes darting around frantically and landing on a worn bag that he'd escaped with in a time before he could remember. He snagged it in a sharp motion. forcing his legs forward fast. down the stairs with his heart pounding heavily in his ears and painfully in his chest. It drowned out the cracking and crumbling of the building around him as well as my heavy panting and unconscious cries for help. 

He repeated to himself that wasn't how he was gonna go. He refused to become one of likely many well dressed corpses in a stairwell. He tripped the bottom stair, steadying himself sloppily. one last turned corner, one more flight of stairs. He pushed through a door. He raced out into the safety of daylight like a tanning being chased by some sort of snaring beast.

though nothing followed, he didn't stop running until he was a good distance from the building. He finally paused a block or two later, leaning against the brick of a stout building and breathing heavily. His eyes fluttered and finally adjusted to the flood of daylight.  
The hopeless man's head turned towards the blue sky, strands of pathetic greasy hair falling away from his face. 

The sky was shrouded with the silhouettes of a fallen city. Everything looked weathered and damaged. Pigeons nested on the windowsills of the cracked Windows that framed the adjacent office building. Previously well trimmed shrubbery that once grew outside and gone brown and wilted in the heat. The building that the man was now resting against carried the stagnant smell of many broken bottles of alcohol, broken fluorescents, and rot. the boom of shitty dance music that nobody was around to turn off dissipated into the air, playing for nobody. Maybe you could count him, if he didn't hate it to bits. 

One living being in the middle of a billion soulless bodies, a billion skyscrapers that towered and shaded everything, making him only a speck. this sort of apocalyptic damage could have only been the work of months and months with no life, or simply a disaster so horrifying it would be hard to comprehend.

How fucking long was he out?

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is. First fic I plan on finishing and likely nobody will read it. Oh well. I felt inspired to write this so I'm gonna fucking write it. I've got point A - point B and chapter outlines so I'm gonna try and hold myself accountable.
> 
> Anyways, this is based off ticker tape, but more off the general apocalypse-theme of Humanz. This was originally thought up as an animatic, but due to me being lazy as hell its now a fic that covers roughly all the same points.
> 
> Hope you guys like it! or hate it!  
> I really just hope you guys read it TBH.  
> I have a cat to feed, man.


End file.
